Hiking through a park in Washington, DC
One afternoon Nadya suggested we go for a hike in Rock Creek Park. A large part of the grounds were thick with vegetation and there was a wooded area of large trees. I was happy to join her and escape the confines of the apartment to the mystery and magic of the forest.
Walking along the winding paths, over logs harboring maggots, our minds penetrated deeper into the forest. We hacked at the vines with sticks, imagining we were jungle explorers on a death march. We trudged through long grasses that scythed the flesh open and raw, waded through swamps teeming with blood-thirsty leaches and picked our way through thick undergrowth, infested with giant venomous snakes and malaria-carrying mosquitoes. Our rare glimpse of light came from spears of sun that pierced the thick forest canopy.
In the rustle of leaves, we saw through the underbrush, a slow groggy dragon waking from his giant sleep, lumbering out of his cave, breathing a noxious foul fire odor to clear his cobwebbed nostrils. He was hungry for a luscious maiden with tender thighs and supple breasts—or maybe a brave young knight. When he spotted us, we ran through the forest like frightened children.
As we came to the edge of the creek, I thought I saw Caribou Man eating moss on the opposite bank. He was a Native American hunter who had left his camp one morning to join a herd of caribou and had been living with them ever since. A tribe of Narrow Face spirits paddled down the creek in the fading sunlight. When they saw us, they bowed their heads to hide their thin faces.
As the sun lowered, we made small sailboats from paper cups and raced them from the banks of the creek, slipping over roots and rocks and ducking under lichen-covered felled trees.
The afternoon reminded me of the walks I used to go on with my mother during our holidays in Switzerland when I was a little boy. I told Nadya about the statues of elves I saw in some of the chalet gardens we passed. My mother told me they represented the real elves who lived down by the stream near the forest, among the rocks and trees. I often walked quietly to the stream, hoping to see them—only to return home disappointed. My mother comforted me and explained that I didn’t see the elves because they were very shy and frightened of humans and only came out at night.
